Love me like You do
by lollipop-tsundere
Summary: Draco is tired of pinning on Harry, and he is tired of wondering why he doesn't like him. And as soon as he decides to get over him, there he goes and gives him false hope.


_You're the light, you're the night_

_You're the color of my blood_

Draco shivered as he walked down the cold street in London; he was directed to a café, one he knew Potter to visit very often… not that he went because of _that_ of course; every single time, he was with that Weaslette, _always._

Not that it bothered him, but, well, couldn't she just give him his space once in a while? He knew his thoughts were completely inconvincible, he just hated Potter, that's all.

As he arrived at the café, he saw him, stupid Potter, with his stupid face, and his stupid messy hair, and his stupid glasses, and his stupid green eyes…those beautiful emerald eyes…

Shaking his head, he walked calmly through the glass door, heading straight to the counter, telling the barista his order, before heading to the far side of the place, not to look at Potter, obviously.

He was staring down at his steaming cup of tea when he felt a gaze on him; for some reason he _knew _ it was _him,_ so he slowly lifter his head to stare back at him, only to find that the Weaslette had arrived, along with the other band of buffoons.

Huffing, he quickly took his cup, grabbed his bag of scones and left. Not noticing how Potter watched him until he disappeared from his sight.

WWW

Working in the same place as Potter had to be the most difficult thing he had _ever_ experienced in his life. And being a _lawyer_ was hard enough.

And taking for account the fact that they were both lawyers specialized in divorce, and had to share clients most of the time, of course, on the opposite sides; Potter won most of them anyway…

There was just _something_ about him when he was up there; he was so…_passionate_, so _alive._ Sometimes Draco wished _he_ was the one that caused those changes in him. Every time he was with the Weaslette, he seemed so hollow, yet he still treated her like she was the most precious thing in the world…

_Love me like you do_

_Love me like you do._

Oh how he wished he could be treated by him like that; how he would always kiss her softly on her cheek when he greeted her, how he would wrap his arms around her waist and spin her around. How he would _smile at her._

Laying his head on his desk, he gripped his hair.

"Let's get real Draco; he would never look twice in your direction." He muttered forlornly, remembering every single time he had invited Potter out for drinks, with the excuse that everyone in the office was going. Only to be turned down, again and again.

It would seem that Potter had no intention to interact with Draco in anyway, how he would always go somewhere else when Draco was in the same room, always ending any conversation, or attempt at conversation, as soon as possible.

Perhaps, he should just accept the fact that Potter was never going to like him, whether it was in a friendly or romantic way. Feeling a dull ache in his chest, Draco felt a knot forming itself in his throat, so he quickly led himself to the bathroom.

_You're the cure, you're the pain_

_You're the only thing I wanna touch,_

_Never knew that it could mean so much_

He splashed cold water on his face, despite the cold weather, and felt the tears begin to leak out of his eyes, choking on his own sobs. Gripping the edges of the sink as he heard the door opening, he breathed in deeply, as he pretended to be washing his face.

"That ought to hurt a lot." He froze as he looked in the mirror, only to see the reason of his tears. There stood _fucking Potter, _his hands shoved in that ridiculous way he always had them, in his coat, lifting them up and down, making him appear like a child.

"I suppose that doesn't concern you then." He responded curtly and coldly, and no matter how much he wanted to throw himself into Potter's arms, and feel his embrace, he knew that would probably be one of the best and the worst ideas of his bloody life.

"Are you okay? You've been looking rather pale lately; well, paler than usual that is." Potter said, actually looking concerned for a change, and, why was he holding a conversation with him? A conversation that was initiated by _him_ as well; this was just getting ridiculous, he needed to get out of there before he began getting his hopes up again.

"I'm _fine,_ now if you excuse me." He walked to the door, before stopping himself abruptly. "Potter?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"Why are you talking to me?" He questioned, knowing he would regret it later.

"Because, I like you." Was what Potter said with an easy going smile, his nose wrinkling along with it, showing his white teeth. He slipped past him, leaving Draco completely frozen in his spot.

_Fading in, fading out_

_On the edge of paradise,_

_Only you can set my heart on fire, on fire_

WWW

That very evening there was a dinner held by the office, obligatory attendance needed. They could invite someone if they wished, but Draco decided not to. Pansy would probably be scolding him about how he needed to get over his _thing_ with Potter, and Blaise would probably just point out all the good looking blokes at the party.

When Potter arrived, however, he felt his heart shatter a bit more, as he saw him walking with the Weaslette, laughing, and stealing kisses off each other.

The other Weasel was there as well, the bushy haired woman dragging him along, behind Potter and his sister; taking a shot of whiskey from the tray a young man held, he swallowed it quickly, feeling how it burned his throat. He took his place on the long table, which, fortunately, or unfortunately was right next to Potter's and the Weaslette's.

He saw as he pulled back the chair so that the red haired woman could sit, and then sat down himself, paying absolutely no mind to Draco whatsoever. It was as if the short conversation he had with him back in the bathroom hadn't happened. He was back to being that cold and distant man whom he just talked to for work, never for anything else.

The restaurant the dinner was held in was an expensive Italian place, dimly lit, wine bottles in display inside of glass boxes. And it was pretty obvious that a professional dinner was being held there, since there were various tables lined up, making it appear like a really long table, since it was covered up by a tablecloth.

These were the little details Draco concentrated on, distracting himself from the obviously in love couple beside him; he made small talk with the rest of the very important and famous international lawyers, friends of his father, Lucius Malfoy, a very important, but retired lawyer from the most prestigious law firm in Britain.

He stood up to head to the bathroom, and as soon as he came back, he saw Potter and the Weaslette, once again, kissing lightly, smirking as he saw a waiter carrying a tray full of cold drinks, he sped up his step.

And just as the young man was passing beside Potter and his _fling,_ he moved the waiter's elbow, causing the tray to tumble, the glasses of lemonade, chilled tea and other drinks falling onto the Weaslette and by default, Potter as well.

_Cause I'm not thinking straight,_

_My head spinning around _

_I can't see clear no more._

Whipping the smirk from his face and holding in his laugh, Draco immediately went in to _'help'. _"Oh my, I am so sorry, this is my entire fault." He took a dark green handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. "Here, I'll pay for your dress! Jesus fucking Christ."

He turned to see Potter, only to find him scowling, and worst of all, scowling at _him. _This was not good.

"Malfoy, can I speak to you for a moment?" By then everyone in the table was looking at them, so to avoid himself getting embarrassed, he nodded stiffly before following Potter to the bathroom. Perhaps he should be more concerned about how all of their important conversations were in the bathroom…although he would prefer they did _something else_ in the bathrooms. Things, that only happened in his wildest imagination.

"What do you think you're doing?" Was the first question that came from Potter's mouth as he crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at him. However, the only thing he could really concentrate on was how the fabric of his jacket became tighter around his arms as he crossed them.

"What do you mean? That?" Draco pointed towards the door. "Was all just an accident, I offered to pay for her poorly designed dress if you don't remember."

For some reason, all of that frustration he had been feeling for the past few _years_ was all coming out on the worst possible time.

"You see? _That is_ precisely what I'm talking about!" Potter raised his voice, as well as his arms, confusion etched all over his face.

"What?" Draco asked, already knowing the answer, and dreading it.

"You always look at Ginny like she's some kind of _pest, _like you hate her. And tonight has done nothing but prove just that." Potter said heatedly, inching closer to Draco as he spoke. "Now, you're going to tell me what the bloody hell you were thinking back there."

At this point, Potter was so close, that he could no longer resist himself. He leaned in, and pressed his lips against Potter's chapped ones. Fear overwhelming his body, he lifted his arms and gripped the other man's jacket, taken aback by the fact that _Harry_ wasn't pushing him away, but was actually _kissing him back!_

_So love me like you do,_

_Love me like you do_

_Touch me like you do,_

_Touch me like you do_

_What are you waiting for?_

He felt Harry wrap his arms around his waist; just like he did with the Weaslette, and it felt so _right_. He slipped his arms around Harry's neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss, as he felt the other man's tongue touching his lips, he opened up his mouth, granting the dark haired man entrance.

Soon enough, their kiss became more heated, but as soon as Harry had began to open his legs with one of his own, they heard a knock on the bathroom door. It was the Weaslette.

"Harry? Is everything alright in there?" She sounded fearful, as if she believed that he and Harry were doing something else, other than talking. Which, they were, but, she didn't need to know that.

Separating himself from Draco, Harry smoothed down his clothing and opened the door, revealing a damp looking Weaslette, a concerned look etched into her face, as she took Harry by the arm and walked away with him, back towards the table, to which Draco never did return to.

_What are you waiting for?_

The entire week at work had been by far the most stressful of Draco's life; what with Harry bumping into him 'accidentally', and then smirking, but never making an effort to actually talk to him.

So one day, he decided to corner him in his office, only to find that the Weaslette was having lunch with him, and as she turned around, he could have sword she saw smugness in her coy smile.

"Malfoy, is there anything I can help you with?" Harry asked innocently, although he could see the hidden mischief in his eyes.

"I can come back later if you want." He really didn't feel comfortable with this.

"I'll pass by your office." Even though it sounded like a completely innocent request, he knew what was hidden behind it…and he was thrilled.


End file.
